


Four Summers

by pinetree



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: F/F, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-24
Updated: 2014-10-03
Packaged: 2018-02-18 14:49:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2352239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinetree/pseuds/pinetree
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mabel Pines and Pacifica Northwest, a friendship in four acts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In Which There Are Pizza Rolls and Werewolves

**Author's Note:**

> First thing I've written in a very long time, but this little baby ship has me by the feels. This begins the summer after the show takes place and continues on from there.

 

     This was all Tiffany and Courtney’s fault; they were the ones that left for the summer. First Tiffany signed up for tennis camp, then Courtney’s parents decided to spend the summer in _France_ , and seriously _did they really have to both go at the same time and leave her with no backup whatsoever?_ Because now Pacifica Northwest was sitting next to a pig on an extremely questionable armchair and Mabel Pines was shoving an entire plate of pizza rolls in front of her face and insisting that it qualified as dinner.

 

     She didn’t even know how the dork had found out her friends were gone for the summer (much less why she cared) but she had been relentless. The first time Mabel had showed up on the front steps Pacifica had explained, in no uncertain terms, that just because they weren’t arch enemies anymore that certainly didn’t make them _friends_. She had punctuated the statement with an eye roll and what she thought was a very final slam of the door. Mabel Pines, however, didn’t seem to know how to take a hint, because that had only been the beginning of what became almost two weeks of incessant pestering. The endless chorus of, “C’mon Pacifica, everyone needs friends,” and “I bet you’ll have fuuuuun,” had finally worn her down and she’d agreed to exactly two hours of interaction on the condition that Mabel leave her alone for the rest of the summer - or preferably the rest of her life.

 

     Which brought them to the current pizza roll situation.

 

     “I can’t believe you’ve never seen Dream Boy High”, Mabel abandoned the plate on Pacifica’s lap and rummaged through a stack of VHS tapes, “this is gonna be _great_.”

 

     Pacifica frankly doubted that ‘great’ was anywhere near the right word to describe whatever it was that Mabel was about to subject her to, but decided not to respond in lieu of glaring at the pig. The second the pizza rolls had arrived he’d started to slowly inch towards the plate and, consequently, Pacifica. 

 

     “If you touch me, I swear I’ll eat you.” 

 

     The pig (Pacifica knew Mabel had named him something stupid, but couldn’t remember what for the life of her) just stared blankly back at her for a full ten seconds, then rolled completely off the arm of the chair and into her lap. Pizza rolls scattered, and Pacifica screamed. Mabel laughed like this was all normal and squeezed into the chair next to her, remote in hand.

 

     “Don’t mind Waddles,” _Waddles_ , that was the thing’s name, “he loves pepperoni.” Pacifica ignored the overt cannibalism involved in that sentence and breathed a sigh of relief when Waddles rolled off of her to chase a pizza roll that had slid under the end table. 

 

     “Ugh, why are you squishing me. Can’t you, like, sit on the floor or something.”

 

     “Uhuh,” Mabel grinned, “this is all part of the service here at Mabel Pines’ house of friendship and happiness!”

 

     “You smell like glue.”

 

     “The glue of _friendship_.” Mabel pressed play.

 

     Pacifica grimaced and looked at her watch. Dear god, it had only been ten minutes. She was never going to make it two hours. As it turned out she didn’t have to, because about thirty minutes into the eye-searing experience that was Dream Boy High Mabel’s brother ran screaming into the room.

 

     “Mabel! You have to help! I need something to bar the door, quick!” he paused for a moment, “wait, what is _Pacifica_ doing here?!”

 

     Mabel slung an arm around Pacifica’s shoulders, “Learning to appreciate all the joys that come with the Mabel Pines friendship experience.”

 

     Pacifica was pretty sure she’d had nightmares that started like this.

 

     Dipper shook his head “Nevermind, whatever weird project you’re doing this week can wait, this is _serious_. Its -“ before he could finish something crashed against the side of the house and roared. Waddles squealed and leapt back into Pacifica’s lap, which she would have objected to if she wasn’t too busy being sure she was about to die.

 

     “Dipper, what did you _do_?!” Mabel sounded more annoyed than terrified. Then again, considering last year’s mini golfing incident this was probably pretty par for the course. Why did they have to be so _weird_.

 

     “It wasn’t my fault! I was just… and then the thing… I wasn’t expecting the werewolves!”

 

     “ _Sexy_ werewolves?”

 

     “Mabel, can you just help?!” Dipper was making an attempt to drag what appeared to be a dinosaur skull towards the door.

 

     “I’ve always wanted a werewolf boyfriend.”

 

     “Mabel!”

 

     It was too late. The door burst open and several large furry shapes flew into the room. Dipper yelled for a retreat, Mabel grabbed her arm, Waddles squealed, and Pacifica stubbed a toe as she was dragged up the stairs. 

 

     “I don’t get it,” Dipper slammed and locked the attic door, “why are there werewolves? It was supposed to be…” Pacifica never found out what it was supposed to be, because Mabel chose that moment to swing an arm around her shoulder again and talk loudly in her ear.

 

     “HAH. Betcha didn’t think you’d have this much fun tonight.” Pacifica looked at her like she had three heads.

 

     “Oh my god, is this seriously how you people have fun?”

 

     “Well it’s not always werewolves. Wait until you hear about the time I kissed a merman! It was amazing.” Pacifica stopped listening and started looking for escape routes. There was absolutely no way she was going to die in this disgusting house, in a mediocre outfit, surrounded by poor people and a pig. The door was out. Maybe the window? The fall couldn’t be that far, and maybe there was a tree. Yes, that was the only solution: escape Mabel’s vice grip, make a break for the window, get home as fast as possible and take ten showers to cleanse herself of this experience before any one knew that she -

 

     “Guys,” Dipper interrupted Pacifica’s train of thought, “why is it so quiet?”

 

     It _was_ quiet. Entirely too quiet for a pack of werewolves that should logically be howling and clawing at the door right about now. Dipper took a tentative step away from the door and pressed his ear to it.

 

     “I don’t hear anything.”

 

     “Maybe they left,” Mabel shrugged.     

 

     “That doesn’t make any sense, why would they leave?”

 

     Pacifica snorted, “Maybe they realized they were chasing the worlds two biggest losers.” 

 

     Both twins ignored her. Dipper very slowly unlocked the door, opened it a crack, and peeked for a split second before slamming it shut again.

 

     “Well?” asked Mabel.

 

     “They’re not there.”

 

     “See, I told you they left.” Mabel pushed the door open and started down the stairs, “C’mon Pacifica, we’ve got a movie to finish.” 

 

     Pacifica stayed where she was for a long moment contemplating whether or not the window was still the preferable option, werewolves or no werewolves. Eventually she followed. Jumping out the window would definitely ruin her outfit at the very least, and maybe she could just slip out the front door. It wasn’t like she actually wanted to finish the movie or anything. _As if_.

 

     “Mabel, wait!” Dipper rushed ahead of them, “Be careful! They could be hiding! They can’t have just left! They could be-“ as he passed the doorway to the living room Dipper paled “-watching… a movie.” He ducked back out of the doorway and flattened himself against the wall.

 

     “What?” Mabel tried to poke her head around the doorframe, but Dipper stopped her with an arm.

 

     “The werewolves. They’re… watching your movie.”

 

     Pacifica chanced a glance and discovered he wasn’t joking. There were five werewolves of assorted sizes gathered in front of the television, completely enraptured by the third act climax of Dream Boy High. Perfect. Now was the moment for escape. Unfortunately it was also the moment that Waddles decided to grunt particularly loudly, and the largest of the werewolves turned to glare in their direction.

 

     “Oh no.”

 

     “Don’t worry, I got this.” Mabel stepped confidently out in front. The large wolf was stalking towards them now, growling

 

     “Mabel, what are you doing?!” Dipper hissed. Mabel waved him away.

 

     “Observe,” she whipped the television remote out of her pocket and held it aloft like a sword, “HEY. If you guys wanna watch movies at Mabel’s house of friendship and happiness, you’ve gotta play nice.” She turned the TV off.

 

     The result was instantaneous. A chorus of pained howls and whines erupted from the living room. The wolf that had been stalking towards them stopped in it’s tracks and looked in horror between Mabel and the now dark screen. Pacifica was pretty sure she saw tears. 

 

     “Now.” Mabel turned the TV back on, “I understand your feelings,” she paused it and the whining began anew, “Dream Boy High is truly an under-appreciated cinematic masterpiece. But you guys missed the whole beginning. You can’t even begin to appreciate Xyler and Craz’s emotional arc without the full experience.” she hit rewind, “but we’re going to have to set some ground rules.”

 

     And that was how Pacifica Northwest ended up watching Dream Boy high with the Pines twins, a pig, and five werewolves eating cold pizza rolls off of the carpet.

 

     “You kissed a merman?” she asked Mabel, as Craz expressed his feelings through radical guitar riffs.

 

     “Well, technically Dipper kissed him first.”

 

     ‘ _Mabel!_ ” Dipper yelped.

 

     After the movie was over and the werewolves had left tearfully clutching the VHS Mabel had gifted them (it was fine, she insisted, she had the DVD at home)  Mabel drove her home in a golf cart -there was no way she was letting the chauffeur or her parents see her smelling like wet dog and processed cheese. Dipper declined to come, still profusely insisting that it wasn’t actually a kiss and Mabel was exaggerating and misrepresenting the whole situation.

 

     “So, same time next week?” Mabel grinned.

 

     “I thought you agreed to leave me alone after this.”

 

     “Oh come on, you had fun. You totally could have left like ten times. Wait till I show you how far this thing can jump.” She patted the dashboard of the golf cart and dove off before Pacifica could respond.

 

     Pacifica stood in the driveway staring after the retreating vehicle (was Mabel even supposed to be driving that thing?) until it disappeared. She was covered in werewolf hair, glitter, and whatever horrible things were probably living in that armchair. She was tired, her toe was sore, and she had horrible synthesizer music running through her head that she was sure would never go away. And yeah, she did have fun.

 

     Courtney and Tiffany are back the first week school starts, and when they ask Pacifica who the “M” she keeps texting is she lies.

 

 

 

 


	2. In Which There Is Hugging and Soup

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a little less werewolves and a little more awkward teenage friendship.

     Sometimes Pacifica regretted giving Mabel her phone number, because it turned out she never stopped talking even when there was no actual talking involved. God bless unlimited data, otherwise the constant flood of emojis, snapchats, and non-sequiters would have racked up a phone bill that even Pacifica’s father might have raised an eyebrow at. She’d expressly forbidden Mabel from calling her. Other people might hear, and even though Pacifica supposed they sort of  _were_ friends now she wasn’t exactly ready to share that information with the world at large. Mabel called anyways, and even though Pacifica never picked up the resulting voicemails always made her laugh more than they probably should. 

 

 

     It was May 1st and Tiffany was leaning on the wall the by the soccer field talking about how much she was looking forward to actually being _home_ this summer when Pacifica realized she might have a problem. Last summer had been fun ( _really_ fun if she let herself admit it), but now her real friends were here. She didn’t need to hang out with Mabel Pines for company anymore, so really that should just be that. Except it couldn’t just be that because every time she thought about ditching Mabel she had an overwhelming feeling of guilt, which was not an emotion that Pacifica Northwest was used to. She spent the entirety of lunch staring at her phone before making a decision.

 

      ** _Look, we can still hang out or whatever this summer if you want. But you can’t, like, tell anyone._**

  
Mabel didn’t respond right away, and Pacifica spent the remainder of the school day getting progressively more anxious. She didn’t know why, it was just _Mabel Pines_ after all. If she was mad and didn’t want to hang out anymore then, well, that just made things easier.  In fact that was probably the preferable option. Why hadn’t she just said that? Why did hanging around with Mabel make is so surprisingly difficult to be mean to her? She stewed all the way through english and into the car ride home before her pocket finally vibrated. 

 

      ** _NINJA FRIENDSHIP IS GOOOOO. OH MAN CAN WE HAVE SECRET HAND SIGNALS._**

****

  
Pacifica rolled her eyes at Mabel’s apparent inability to turn off her capslock. She was surprised how relieved she was. _Seriously Pacifica stop caring so much it’s just Mabel._

 

      ** _Omg whatever. You are such a dork._**

****

**_SECRET AGENT DORK._ **

****

  
The final text was accompanied by a photo of Mabel making an extremely serious face with sunglasses and a water gun and Pacifica laughed out loud despite herself. Mabel never tells her exactly when they’re coming back, but she finds out a month later when a grappling hook breaks her bedroom window (she tells her parents it was a bird).

 

* * *

 

 

     “Where are your other weird friends?” Pacifica asked, “I haven’t seen them all summer.”

 

     They were sitting on Mabel’s bed in the Mystery Shack, Pacifica with her feet primly tucked under her on the pillow and Mabel sprawled upside down in a position that would be wildly uncomfortable for anyone else. It was really the only place they could hang out without the chance of any of her friends seeing, and Pacifica was horrified to realize she was starting to get used to it. At least Mabel’s bed was a (relatively) safe island in the sea of splinters, dust, and Dipper’s dirty clothes.

 

     “Oh they’re around, they’re just afraid of you.” Mabel said, ricocheting a cheese cube expertly off the wall and into Waddles’ mouth, “HOLE IN ONE!” Waddles squealed appreciatively. 

 

     “Afraid of me?”

 

     This was the first time Pacifica had really considered the fact that for all Mabel didn’t fit in with her usual crowd, she didn’t fit in with Mabel’s either. Which was good, really. Mabel’s usual crowd were even weirder than Mabel. 

 

     “Weelllll...” Mabel paused, “not really afraid I guess. They just still think you’re a big jerk. I told them you’re nice now-“

 

     “I am _not_ nice,” Pacifica scowled. The last thing she wanted was every loser in Gravity Falls trying to make friends with her.

 

     Mabel shrugged “You’re nice to me. Nic _er_ at least. Why do you like everyone thinking you’re a jerk, anyhow?”

 

     “I’m not a jerk, I just have _standards_.”

 

     “Yeah but why? Doesn’t it get annoying having to do that junk all the time? I mean we could go out and do a bunch of fun stuff, but you’d rather sit in here all day.” Mabel sounded more confused than upset. 

 

     “Ugh, of course you don’t get it. You couldn’t _possibly_ understand.” Pacifica’s tone was flippant, but this conversation was rapidly heading in a direction that she wanted nothing to do with. 

 

     ‘Why not?”

 

     “Because it’s a _rich, popular_ person thing. Something you clearly have no experience with.” the words came out meaner than Pacifica had intended, but it’s not like it wasn’t the truth.

 

     Mabel was silent for a moment before rolling over onto her stomach (and entirely too far into Pacifica’s personal space).

 

     “You know I’m not poor, right?” Mabel said matter-of-factly, “I mean, we don’t live in a mansion full of peacocks or anything, but it’s not like me ’n Dipper live in a creaky old shack the whole year.”

 

     “Oh.” Pacifica honestly wasn’t sure how else to respond to that. 

 

     “I think it’s fun though. Mom and Dad pretty much made us come the first time, but we asked to come back. I mean, come on, why would I wanna spend summer somewhere boring when I could have weird creepy old woods and monster boyfriends?”

 

     Coming from anyone else Pacifica would have taken that sentence for sarcasm, but this was Mabel. She _would_ get excited about the bi-weekly near death experiences that seemed to follow in her brother’s wake. 

 

     “Besides,” Mabel continued, “you’d miss me.” She grinned and hugged Pacifica, which just _ugh, no_. Pacifica didn’t do hugs, and she especially didn’t do hugs from Mabel Pines.

 

     “Oh my god, get off me you weirdo.” 

 

     Mabel didn’t relent and eventually Pacifica gave up. It wasn’t like she _liked_ it or anything but Mabel clearly wasn’t going to stop so she might as well let her get it out of her system. An hour later Mabel convinced her to leave the house for ice cream, and Pacifica only walked a _little_ faster when she saw Tiffany across the street. It wasn’t _that_ big of a deal.

 

* * *

 

     It was two weeks into August when Pacifica started to come down with a cold, which was completely ridiculous because, really, who got a cold in _August_? The virus refused to abide by this logic however, and two days later Pacifica found herself in bed breathing out of her mouth with the worst headache she’d had in years. Her parents had sent the butler to bring her some aspirin and tea but wouldn’t come near her bedroom themselves, which was totally understandable because they had an important party this weekend it’s not like they could afford to get sick too, but she would have liked a little company at least. 

 

     She’d spent the last few hours texting Tiffany, but all _she_ wanted to do was talk about how Dean had finally asked her out yesterday and Pacifica just could not care less. Dean was alright by Gravity Falls standards, but Tiffany could seriously do better. A little better anyway, she wasn’t _Pacifica Northwest_  after all. For all she’d tried, Pacifica had yet to find a single boy in Gravity Falls that was up to her standards. They were all so… boring and unappealing. She really hoped that would change by the time high school hit, because she was going to need to find a prom king _somewhere_.

 

     Her phone vibrated. She sighed heavily, expecting another message about how dreamy Dean’s eyes were.

 

      ** _How you holding up there, buddy?_**

****

  
Mabel. Pacifica smiled despite herself. She hadn’t even told Mabel her cold had gotten worse, but somehow she knew and had been texting every hour on the hour to check on Pacifica’s wellbeing. It was super weird for sure (seriously, what normal person focused that much energy on a friend with a cold), but kinda sweet. Almost. In a complete loser dork way. 

 

      _ **Awful. This is so totally unfair.**_

__

_**Fear not NURSE MABEL IS ON THE CASE.** _

__

_**What?** _

__

_**Open the window DOOFUS.** _

__

  
Pacifica blinked at the words a few times, then dragged herself to the window. Mabel Pines was standing on her lawn holding a grappling hook and a backpack wearing a nurse’s hat made out of construction paper. 

 

     “I would’ve just let myself in, but I didn’t want to break the window again.” 

 

     “Why don’t you just use the front door like a normal persOAAH.” Pacifica had to duck suddenly as the grappling hook sailed past her head, followed quickly by Mabel summersaulting over the window ledge and landing in a heap on the carpet.

 

     “Tadaaa!” Mabel leapt up and struck a pose, “almost stuck the landing that time!"

 

     Pacifica groaned and heaved herself back into bed. 

 

     “Oh, sorry,” Mabel lowered her voice to a whisper, “I mean: tadaaaa.” this time the pose was accompanied by jazz hands.

 

     “Oh my god, why are you whispering?"

 

     “Well duh, dummy. I don’t want your parents to know I’m here. I brought soup!” Mabel extracted a slightly soggy paper bag from her backpack.

 

     “My parents aren’t here, moron.” Pacifica rolled her eyes.

 

     “They’re _what_?!” Mabel looked shocked and appalled.

 

     “Not here. Why is that so weird?"

 

     “But, but… you’re _sick_!"

 

     “Well, yeah. And if they hang around me they’ll get sick too. Why would they do that?"

 

     “But they’re your _parents_!"

 

     “So? Oh my god Mabel, why are you being so _weird?!_ Do your parents really hang around you when you’re sick?"

 

     Mabel just stared blankly at her in disbelief for almost a full minute. When Pacifica started to shift uncomfortably it seemed to snap her out of her stupor, and she dove headfirst into her backpack.

 

     “This is so much worse than I thought! This is a full on friend emergency!"

 

     “Mabel,“ Pacifica started to get out of bed, “what are you-“ Mabel shoved her back down.

 

     “ _No_! You get right back in bed and stay there. I’ll take care of _everything_. I can’t believe you’ve never been taken care of when you’re sick!"

 

     “I get taken care of.” Pacifica protested, “It’s not like they don’t send Gerard up with medicine."

 

     “That doesn’t _count_! Who wraps you up in blankets? Who reads you stories? Who brings you soup in bed?” Mabel sounded almost frantic.

 

     “Oh my god chill out."

 

     “I refuse! You are in desperate need of a nurse and I am here to help."

 

     “Mabel, I don’t need a nurse. I have tea.” Pacifica raised the aforementioned cup of tea for emphasis.

 

     “Tea can’t nurse your _soul,_ Pacifica.” and with that Mabel was out the bedroom door before Pacifica could stop her.

 

     Pacifica briefly debated going after her -especially when she heard what sounded like a crash from the direction of the stairs- but decided against it. Her head hurt too much to deal with this right now, and her parents weren’t going to be home all day anyways. Instead, she decided to just close her eyes and wait for hurricane Mabel to run its course.

 

     She didn’t realize she’d fallen asleep until she woke up to Mabel sitting next to her on the bed holding a tray. 

 

     “Hey there, sleepy pants. Feeling better?"

 

     Pacifica grumbled. She was still tired, but her headache felt a little better. The aspirin must have finally decided to kick in.

 

     “Well that’s why I’m here,” Mabel sounded entirely too cheery, “hot soup for my invalid best bud."

 

     “Since when are we best buds?” Pacifica half sat up.

 

     “Since destiny decided we were.” Mabel grinned and plopped the tray in her lap, "Eat the soup."

 

     The soup was good. Really good. And eating it made Pacifica feel better than she would willingly admit, it’s effect lessened only slightly by Mabel watching her and smiling the entire time she ate. As soon as she was finished, Mabel whisked the tray away and jumped into bed with her, backpack in hand.

 

     “Mabel, what are you doing? I’m _sick_."

 

     “Well,  _doy_! This is the next part of the nursing process.” Mabel dug around in her bag and produced a lumpy bundle.

 

     “What is _that_?"

 

     “Well, this is an icepack for your head,” Mabel pulled it out of the bundle, “and this is for when the icepack makes you all cold."

 

     The second ‘this’ she was referring to was a bright pink sweater with a shooting star on it. Pacifica glared.

 

     “Mabel if you think I’m wearing that…"

 

     “I know, I know, but this is probably one of the least goofy ones I own. And trust me,” she draped the sweater over Pacifica, “nothing feels better when you’re cold and sick than a warm snuggly sweater.” 

 

     Pacifica didn’t respond. The icepack was half melted but still cold and felt wonderful. And, well… the sweater _was_ snuggly. Besides, she was sick, it wasn’t like anyone was going to see her. She begrudgingly pulled the sweater over her head and Mabel smiled even wider.

 

     “Don’t think this means I like this thing,” Pacifica laid back down, holding the icepack to her forehead, “I’m just sick."

 

     “Oh of course,” Mabel kept smiling. It was getting annoying. 

 

     “You’re going to get sick too if you keep sitting here."

 

     “Why Pacifica Northwest,” Mabel adopted a faux southern accent, “I didn’t realize you cared."

 

     Pacifica grumbled angrily and rolled over. Mabel laughed.

 

     “Don’t worry, I’ll handle it. Now, your bedtime story!"

 

     “Mabel, it’s the middle of the day.” Pacifica said incredulously.

 

     “Nonsense,” Mabel waved her away, "Every time is bedtime when you’re sick. Now, wait till you hear what Dipper did yesterday."

 

     “Was it those weird centaur things again?"

 

     “Oh no, even better."

 

     Pacifica drifted off to sleep for the second time to the sound of Mabel’s voice detailing Dipper’s latest exploits. When she woke up it was dark and she was alone except for a large butterfly sticker on her lampshade with 'Feel Butter Soon!’ written in glitter. Her phone vibrated.

 

      _ **Sorry I left while you were asleep! I heard your parents pull in. If you’re still feeling crummy tomorrow we can**_

_**consult Dr Waddles for a second opinion.  
** _

__

  
The next message was a picture of Waddles wearing a plastic stethoscope and what she was pretty sure were Mabel’s uncle’s glasses. Pacifica smiled and went back to sleep.

 

* * *

__

  
Two weeks later while Mabel was loading her suitcase onto the bus and nursing a runny nose, Pacifica walked up and hugged her quickly.

__

  
“Don’t, like, make anything out of that or whatever,” she said before Mabel could respond, “just… thanks. For stuff."

__

  
Mabel smirked, “I thought you didn’t do hugs."

     

  
“I don’t, so if you tell anyone about this I’ll kill you."

__

  
Mabel just tackled her in an even bigger hug that Pacifica pretended to be mad about, and as the bus drove away (complete with Mabel making stupid faces at her out the back window) she felt much lonelier than she ever expected. 

**Author's Note:**

> Can't promise an exact update schedule (full time job and life type things), but I have this whole thing outlined so I'll try to keep updates as regular as possible!


End file.
